


Bee Mine?

by Finitismal



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Other, no beta we die like men, this is literally just pure fluff and my heart can't take it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-01-09
Packaged: 2019-10-07 04:44:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17359208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Finitismal/pseuds/Finitismal
Summary: Three months have passed since the Revolution ended. Connor spends his time helping other androids, hoping to distract himself from the guilt and knowledge of the things he did while under Cyberlife's control.He never expected to meet Ralph, much less connect with him. Yet somehow, they click. They work.He couldn't be happier.





	Bee Mine?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Metropoliskid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Metropoliskid/gifts).



“Kara? Kara, Ralph must know, does he look good?” Incessant inquiries burst forth with excitement, palms smoothing over his chest as he studies himself in the mirror. How  _ enthralling _ it is, to be able to meet his own gaze in the mirror and not flinch away. Those scars were once his shame, but now they were apart of him.  _ They show that you’re a survivor, Ralph.  _ Connor had told him that.  _ Connor. . . _ just the thought of him makes Ralph smile. Makes warmth swell in the confines of his chassis, makes his thirium regulator pick up the pace just a bit.

He’s drawn out of his thoughts with Kara’s gasp, which quickly rolls itself into a coo. ( Briefly, Ralph thinks he’s rather sure she’s used it on Alice. Ralph also decides he really doesn’t care. ) “Ralph, you look incredible! I knew that colour would suit you.” She knows how to move around him, now, moves with a slow but confident stride to approach him. He doesn’t even flinch, now, when her gentle hands adjust the collar of the button-up he wears. 

Ralph  _ is _ inclined to agree that the colour is nice. It’s a soft, but rich green that echoes of the gardens and parks he used to work. Kara helped him choose it, insisting it was the best because it  _ ‘brought out his eyes.’  _ That it  _ ‘accentuated the hazel’. _ ( Yet again, Ralph really didn’t care. He just wanted to look nice.  _ Had _ to look nice for Connor. )

“. . .and you promise that if anything goes wrong, you’ll call us immediately, right Ralph?” A pause. Kara sighs, realizing she’s lost him. “Ralph?”

The reiteration of his name finally garners Ralph’s attention. He blinks, good eye flicking to study Kara, head tilting. “Yes, yes, of course. Kara worries too much. Ralph will be fine! Connor is good. Connor  _ helped _ Ralph, after all.” A confident nod and a grin in her direction, and he watches some of the tension ease from her shoulders.

Kara still hadn’t forgotten. Hadn’t forgotten the way Connor had chased her and Alice, the way he had forced them to risk their deaths just to  _ survive. _ She, however, couldn't ignore the proof that had been laid at her feet. That Connor wasn’t as bad as she wishes she could make him out to be. After all, she had watched the way Ralph had continued to come out of his shell. She knew it wasn’t  _ just _ Connor to credit for that, that it was her, Luther, Alice, Markus-- but Connor  _ did _ play a large part. 

A final cursory glance in the mirror and Ralph nods, once more. He’s ready. He feels he looks good enough for Connor. Now he just can’t wait to see Connor himself.

* * *

 

“Eights, are you sure about this?” Nines’ tone is laden with concern, or at least, as much as Nines’ tone could ever carry. His vocals hadn’t been designed with human nuances in mind, unlike Connor’s own. Still, they had been living together in a small apartment since the revolution ended, and it had given Connor  _ plenty _ of time to study the little things and understand what tone Nines was attempting to emulate.

Like now. Nines’ brows are pinched inward, shoulders stiff and yet hunched forward slightly. There’s more grit to his already low tone, and that’s all Connor needs to know precisely what is going through his brother’s mind. 

“I’m positive, Nines. Ralph is. . .” Connor trails off. What is he even to say about Ralph? That he saw himself, sometimes, in the way they were both damaged in ways beyond basic comprehension at the hands of humans? In how it wasn’t just  _ him _ making efforts in helping Ralph heal, that Ralph was helping  _ Connor _ heal too? That Ralph continued, day by day, to be a shining beacon in the darkness that he wasn’t alone. That there were others, healing, just like him. “I’ve never been more  _ sure,” _ he finishes, weakly. 

Gunmetal gaze narrows and flicks to study Connor’s own, a challenge of winter’s steel against summer’s brass. It’s clear Nines is tempted to press farther, that weak ending of a statement only encouraging it, but he holds his tongue. Relents, thankfully, for now. “And you will  _ immediately _ contact me if anything, and I mean anyth-”

“Nines.” Connor’s exasperated groan cuts Nines off mid-sentence, digits pinching the bridge of his nose.  _ So human, Con, _ he can practically hear Hank crowing. “You act like you’re the older brother here. It’ll be fine. I swear. We’ll be okay.” He reaches out to squeeze Nines’ hand reassuringly. Skin peels back in a flicker of ocean-blue, a brief connection of replicant souls. The rest of Nines’ concern melts away through their link, and Connor smiles.

“Can we go now?”

 

* * *

 

The ride to Kara, Luther, Alice and Ralph’s home is relatively short. Or, Connor supposes, short to an android. He’s long since become quite aware that humans and androids have a different rate of time, and that thirty minutes to them is nothing. To a human, however. . .   the amount of times he’d nearly smacked Detective Reed for complaining that it was ‘ taking too long ‘ was beyond his count. ( The two of them had a patchy relationship. It wasn’t perfect, but Gavin had grown. Somewhat. He was still a dick, but he didn’t try to kill Connor anymore. He counted that as a win. )

He’s drawn from his reverie by the autonomous car coming to a halt, taking in a sharp inhale to cool his systems. They felt warm, though his HUD wasn’t displaying any actual warnings. Nerves, then. He stares out the window at the door, unassuming, but he finds he’s frozen. What if Ralph changed his mind? What if Ralph didn’t like the way he looked, what if--

“Eights. Eyes on me.” It’s Nines, now, who interrupts. A tap to his temple is the tell Connor needed. His LED had to have been cycling a steady red for Nines to have said something. “Are you alright?”

A mute nod. He’s fine.  _ He’s fine.  _

“Let’s do this.”

 

* * *

 

Ralph watches from the upstairs window of his room as the car pulls up. It’s a simple car, plain, the paint a surprisingly dull but sleek platinum. An older model, too, released not long after he himself had been. He knows this because he recalls the ads for it at the entrance to the park he worked before.  _ Before. _ A sharp inhale escapes, one that’s caught by Luther who was passing by.

How hesitant he had been at first of Luther. The other Android was bigger, stronger.  _ Dangerous, _ Ralph’s mind had insisted. Ralph could not win in a fight against him. Ralph would lose, Ralph would be hurt again. But now Ralph knew better. Luther was warm, kind, quiet. He was a steady rock for Ralph to turn to in his admittedly tumultuous healing.

“Are you alright, Ralph?” Luther’s low timbre soothes Ralph’s nerves, and he nods. Once, twice. 

“Ralph is fine. Ralph is sorry to have concerned Luther. Ralph merely thought of before, but Ralph is fine. Knows he is safe here. With. . . family. “ A hesitant smile as he looks away from the window, wondering why Connor has yet to exit. His gaze finds Luther’s, and the larger android returns the smile.

“That’s right, Ralph. You’re family.”

A door finally slams downstairs and Ralph’s regulator skips a cycle. “Oh! Ralph must go, Ralph must greet Connor!”

His movements are erratic, fast-paced as he nearly launches himself downstairs. Luther’s laugh heartily echoes behind him.

 

* * *

 

It’s Kara that answers the door, her gaze not  _ cold  _ but not quite  _ warm _ when it meets Connor’s. Neutral, carefully so. From behind her hip Alice peeks, and Connor makes his decision at that moment. 

He crouches down, ignoring the way Nines makes an indignant noise from behind him when he’s nudged slightly back. “Hello, Alice.” A small smile, an extension of his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person. My name is Connor. Ralph talks about you a lot.”

A startled sound escapes from Alice, her cheeks beginning to colour with the makings of a blush. “He does?”

Connor nods, glancing up to Kara and noticing the slightest smile on her lips.  _ Good. _ He’ll never forgive himself for what he did to them, but he hopes he can at least make amends. “He does! He tells me what a great artist you are and how you’re the  _ greatest _ little sister anyone could ask for.”

_ That _ makes Alice burst in to a grin. She finally takes Connor’s hand and gives it a tiny shake, “. . . Ralph talks about you a lot too. But don’t tell Ralph I told you that!” She says hurriedly, glancing behind her at the sound of footsteps.

“I won’t! Our secret, I promise.” Connor reassures her this with a wink, standing from his crouch to glance over Kara’s shoulder and. . .  _ oh. _ He feels like a stereotype, getting choked up about how  _ good _ his date looks the moment he sees him. But how could he not? Ralph looks stunning, a study in contrasts: his sandy tresses the sunlight that dances amongst the verdure of his malachite button-up, the shadows of his black jeans. 

Connor  _ almost _ feels self conscious in comparison. Not that their outfits are much different, really. Connor himself had opted for a more relaxed outfit, black jeans and a soft blue tee. His favourite blazer completed the look to add some extra class, but. . .   Ralph just looked  _ stunning. _ “Ralph, you look. . .” He doesn’t have words. His LED flickers, a steady yellow before it soothes itself back to blue.

“Does Ralph look. . . alright?” Hesitant steps draw Ralph closer to Connor, swallowing tightly as he studies his date’s LED. He, too, had opted to keep his ( he wouldn’t admit it, but he was too scared of how it would feel ) and it was nice to see that he hadn’t been alone in that decision. 

A rapid nod from Connor, his gaze flicking over Kara and the way she was staring  _ intently. _ As if ready to cart Ralph off at a moment’s notice lest Connor so much as exhale wrong. “No, Ralph,” and he has to pause because the look of  _ hurt _ that flickers on Ralph’s face nearly breaks him, stumbling over himself to get the rest of the words. “No, not like that, I mean you look  _ amazing. _ Stunning. I-- I’m honored that I’m going to get to spend the day with you at my side.”

_ Smooth. _

Nines’ soft mockery filters through their link and it’s the first time Connor even remembers he’s there, immediately elbowing Nines in the stomach with a glare. The taller twin starts to laugh, which earns a puzzled look from the gathered group, as it’s slightly monotone and empty. Connor’s lips twitch too, though, and he starts to giggle. It’s so like Nines to make a moment  _ awkward _ without being awkward at all.

“Prick,” Connor finally manages to get out, “you’re making me look like an  _ idiot _ in front of my date.”

All he gets is a smile in return.

 

* * *

 

_ My date. _ The words make Ralph grin, finally making his way past Kara as he looks over Connor. “Ralph does not think Connor looks like an idiot. Ralph thinks Connor looks wonderful.” His words are soft, excited, hands twitching with a desire to touch, to feel Connor’s in his own.

“O-oh.” Connor’s cheeks begin to flush, the pallor of his skin making the hue much akin to that of the sky. “Thank you. . .” He trails off, clearly bashful, glancing toward his feet before startling at the sound of a clearing throat. Luther, now, joining the motley crew. 

Connor can feel Nines tense behind him, realizing that there’s a formidable foe, someone who could logically cause harm to Connor that Nines himself would likely be unable to fight off.  _ Calm down. Luther is very kind. _ He offers this through their link, but even then, Nines barely relaxes. When Connor glances back to him, his jaw is set. An artificial muscle jumps with how tightly his gritting his teeth.

“You’re going to keep Ralph safe, Connor?” Of all of them, Luther was the worrier. He always kept track to the best of his abilities to make sure his family was  _ safe. _ He couldn’t imagine the impact it would have on him if any of them were hurt, much less lost. “Not that I don’t trust you, but we still know this world, while having gotten kinder, can still be cruel.”

Ralph’s lips twitch and he pipes up before Connor can, his LED flickering red. Almost rage, again, that insatiable anger that used to well up within him. Magmatic, explosive. “Ralph is not a child!” He snaps, before inhaling sharply. Inhale five, exhale five. His LED shifts to amber before it regulated itself once again. “Ralph. . .   can protect himself. Ralph appreciates his family’s concern, but Ralph will be fine.” A firm nod as he looks to Kara and Luther.

The two of them exhale, but they return the nod. A minute glance between them before Kara speaks. “Of course, Ralph. We’re sorry. We just worry. You have a good time with Connor, okay?”

A grin and a nod from Ralph, an extension of a hand from Connor in Ralph’s direction that’s quickly taken. Nines steps back to allow the pair their exit, leaving the other four gathered and watching them go on the porch.

 

* * *

 

_ Their hands feel right together. _ It’s the first thought that crosses Connor’s mind as their fingers entwine. Palms press evenly together, digits matched almost exactly within length. It’s comfortable, comforting. He can see Ralph’s skin flickering, aching to reveal its true nature, the plastisteel beneath, but he can also sense the turmoil in his date. “It’s okay,” Connor offers, closing his hand tighter around Ralph’s momentarily before he allows his own skin to peel back, “I don’t mind.”

Many androids reserved the interlinking for two connections: their true love, and family. But Connor. . .   he was different. He didn’t see it that way, saw the link that could be made between androids as vital, as something more than just  _ intimate. _ Sure, it was a show of ultimate trust, but it was also how he was able to help them win the revolution. Without it, they would still be. . . his thoughts trail off as his gaze flicks to Ralph, surprised to see the other staring at their hands.

At the soft white chassis they both bare, at the glint of light that reflects from them, at the way they almost mingle in to one.

“Ralph?” Connor inquires softly, head tilting, brows raising slightly. He doesn’t think anything’s wrong, but he can’t help but begin to hope that it wasn’t as intimate to Ralph as it was to other androids. That he hadn’t just ruined their date already. “I’m sorry if I was too forward, if--”

“No!” Ralph interjects quickly, gaze darting up and Connor is startled to see his eyes are filled with tears. “No, Connor is alright. Ralph is just surprised. Ralph did not expect Connor to be alright with this,” he pauses, searching for the words, “Ralph is not used to such kindness, still. Kara and Luther and Alice are teaching him, but it is still new.” 

Connor squeezes his hand anew, tempted to raise Ralph’s hand to his lips and brush them over his knuckles. He resists the urge, however, as they’ve reached their destination-- a quiet, nearby park. Rarely busy at this time of day. Perfect for them to simply enjoy the sights. He stops at a bench and settles on it, gently pulling Ralph to settle next to him. “C’mere.”

“C-con?” Vocals lilt as Ralph lands lightly beside his date, looking around the park. It’s soothing. It feels like coming home, in a way. Ralph can feel the tears threatening to surface again, realizing that Connor had thought of taking him to one place he hadn’t felt safe to go within in years, to the one place he had missed the most.  _ Open nature. _

No response is given, although Connor does send a gentle feedback through their open link: warm, inviting, comforting. A promise to Ralph that he was safe and that Connor would protect him if anything  _ did _ happen. Unspoken, but there. It makes Ralph hum with content, head falling lightly to rest on Connor’s shoulder.

“Do you like it, Sunflower?” The nickname rolls easily from Connor’s lips, eyes widening when he realizes he’s said it aloud, but he doesn’t take it back, doesn’t rescind it. It fits Ralph, after all. With his tawny hair and his (usually) bright disposition and love of nature. . .   yes, Connor is quite pleased with the decision.

Especially when Ralph’s cheeks darken, cobalt beneath his tan and freckled synthskin. “S-sunflower?” He turns his face to hide it in Connor’s shoulder, giggling softly. “Ralph is not a sunflower.”

Connor can’t resist himself, shifting his free hand to tilt Ralph’s head up slightly. “Ralph is most definitely a sunflower. He’s as lovely as one.” He’s almost  _ certain _ he can feel Nines smacking him upside the head for that one. It’s so mushy, even Connor’s biting his tongue, but Ralph deserves it. Deserves to feel lovely, because he  _ is _ .

“Connor is too kind.” Ralph retorts, but he doesn’t say anything else after that. Just watches the nature and the leaves that fall with the coming of winter, littering the ground in multi-chromatic hues. He feels. . .   at peace. Snuggled up in to Connor’s side, holding his hand, surrounded by the one thing he knew he loved.

 

* * *

 

They sit there for hours, watching people go by and the mothers and fathers with the children. They recieve a few glances, a couple of glares, but for the most part nobody minds them. They’re both lulled to a sense of security, lingering on the edges of stasis when Ralph suddenly bolts upright, gaze trained ahead.

“Ralphie. . . ?” Connor blinks rapidly, trying to wake up his systems enough to come to terms with what’s going on. “What’s wrong?”

“Shh-- look. Squirrel.” 

A steady finger points and Connor follows the line, brows furrowing. He does  _ see _ the creature, all black fluff, but he doesn’t quite understand  _ why _ it matters. Squirrels were common enough in Detroit,  _ especially _ in parks, so why-- 

Ralph takes off. One moment he’s snuggled against Connor and then suddenly he’s not. The rapid turn of events has Connor questioning his sanity momentarily, shaking his head as he attempts to put together that his date  _ did, _ in fact, _ just take off like Sumo does, _ to chase a squirrel.  _ Just like Sumo does. _

“What just happened?” Connor whispers softly to himself, shaking his head.

 

* * *

 

  
  


After the  _ Squirrel Incident-- _ as Connor has quickly taken to calling it in his head-- things return to normal. With, luckily, no squirrels being harmed in the making of their date. When Connor asked  _ why _ Ralph took off after the squirrel, he got a beatific grin in response that made his pump skip a cycle yet again. 

“Ralph wanted to pet the squirrel! Ralph loves squirrels, so small and soft.” 

Connor’s entirely sure there’s approximately three thousand things better to pet other than squirrels. Dogs, for one. (  _ He _ likes dogs. ) Cats, hamsters, gerbils. . . Definitely not squirrels, though. But if it made Ralph happy, Connor really didn’t care.    
  


* * *

 

 

They return to a suspiciously quiet household. Through the window, Connor can see that Kara and Luther have snuggled in on the couch, Alice squished between them, and he is between happy and horrified to see that Nines is still there. 

It’s a small comfort, at least, that Ralph’s hand is still in his. They walked to the park holding them, walked the park holding them, walked home holding them. Connor  _ really _ doesn’t want to let go. Something about Ralph was just. . .   safe. Something about him felt like  _ home. _ Still, it was too soon to make decisions like that, for both of them.

They hover at the door, Ralph turning to face Connor with a smile. 

“Ralph would like to thank his Bumblebee for a wonderful time.” His voice is a whisper, almost intimately so. His cheeks begin to burn once again at calling Connor that, but he wants Connor to know he’s special. That if he was Connor’s sunflower, then Connor would be his bumblebee. Bumblebees were adorable, anyways. Like Connor. “He hopes it will happen again soon?”

Connor’s gaze lights up, LED burning a brilliant, steady azure. “Absolutely, Sunflower. Absolutely.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> gosh , this fic ran away with me and i honestly couldn't be happier about it . when i went in to writing this i didn't expect to end up loving these boys nearly as much as i do now , but heyo . i hope you all enjoy !
> 
> find me on twitter @finitismal ! tumblr coming soon ( hopefully ) .


End file.
